


Hagoromo Gaiden: Tapestry of the Feathered Robe

by BelletristWordSalad



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, because Kishimoto missed so many opportunities, because there is an alternative to the canon, pilotverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2456879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelletristWordSalad/pseuds/BelletristWordSalad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before there was Naruto Uzumaki of Mount Oinari, there was Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki of Mount Hōrai... The story surrounding the man renowned as the first God of Shinobi.</p><p>[Pre-Pilot, Pre-True Tale]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warp of the Feathered Robe

Song: "[Low of Solipsism](http://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81D8CCguW4g)" — Death Note Soundtrack

-:-

Kaguya Ōtsutsuki was a goddess. That was the indisputable truth. Had she not eaten the fruit of the God Tree for which she and her clan had waited for millennia? Had she not ascended to godhood and used her newfound power to quell the wars and silence any dissent?

How, then, could her raiment not fit her? Hagoromo, who had been woven of the holy threads of herself and Harafu*, the Ten-Headed and Ten–Tailed Beast of Mount Hōrai’s† God Tree, was to be like his namesake and be her legacy, draping over the world and snuffing out the evils of these pathetic moths. 

But no. He had succumbed to their dust, showed them kindness and mercy. He even shared his God-given gift with them! She had tried, of course, tried to reopen his eyes to the mortals’ true nature, but to no avail.

_“How can you tarnish yourself by walking among these moths? How can you tatter your divine gifts sharing them with beasts such as these? Forget you how below us they are in everything?! They’re nothing but brutes that stain the world with each other’s blood and breed like the vermin that they are!”_

_“Well, then, why don’t you_ teach _them how to better themselves instead of lording it over them?!”_

Oh, how close she was to tearing out her horns…

How dare he deviate from her designs! How _dare_ he! Raiment, celestial or not, did _not_ form an opinion of its own, did _not_ have an existence separate from its wearer! Without its wearer, it was merely a heap of fabric. Purposeless. Extraneous.

_Nothing._

Nothing. That was what Hagoromo had been before she wove him on her loom…and that was what he would be when next they met. She wove him into being, and she could _un_ weave him just as easily. He wasn’t irreplaceable; she and Harafu had intertwined once again, weaving Uimaru‡—a perfect, more fitting raiment.

And so, Princess Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, the Demon of Mount Hōrai euphemistically worshipped as the Rabbit Goddess, spirited away Uimaru, assembled her Five Fantastic Items§—the Stone Begging Bowl of the Buddha; the Jeweled Branch of the God Tree; the Dragon’s Pearl; the Robe of the Fire-Rat; the Swallow’s Cowrie—turned her steely gaze to the endless sea…

…and waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * **Harafu:** The Japanese transliteration of _prabhu_ , Sanskrit for "Surpassing", "Powerful", a title of various Hindu deities OR of _prabhū_ , Sanskrit for "Origin(al/ate)". This is the name for the Ten-Headed and Ten-Tailed [Kodama](http://hyakumonogatari.com/2012/08/05/kodama-the-tree-spirit/), the antecedent of the Headed and Tailed Beasts. 
> 
> Also befitting the predecessor of the many and sundry Chakra Beasts, Harafu has elements of the [Hakutaku](http://yokai.com/hakutaku/). Originally called the _bai ze_ in Chinese mythology, the _hakutaku_ is most famous for telling the Yellow Emperor of the 11,520 forms of spirits in existence and how to subdue and harness them, all of which the Emperor had his subordinates record in a bestiary. With such an illustrious and knowledgeable mythos surrounding it, what better origin of such Olympus Mon?
> 
> Harafu also has elements of the [Qilin](http://yokai.com/kirin/), a creature foreshadowing the birth of a great leader, befitting his paternity of the God of Shinobi. Considering the misanthropy and narcissism of the Rabbit Goddess, a Kodama God is the better choice to help her weave holy cloth than a "pathetic moth". 
> 
> The [Manticore](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manticore) is also part of the Kodama's makeup. The term "Kodama", in addition to "tree spirit", also means "echo". And what better to cause echoes than the trumpeting voice of the manticore?
> 
> † **Mount Hōrai as the God Tree's place of origin:** In the folkloric story of Princess Kaguya—[The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tale_of_the_Bamboo_Cutter#Narrative)—the princess sends her suitors to gather five impossible items. One of them is the Jeweled Branch of Mount Hōrai—the Japanization of the Chinese [Penglai](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Penglai)—an immortal fairyland. Since the canonical location of the God Tree was never specified, what better location for this depiction of a divine tree?
> 
> ‡ **Uimaru:** Recently, it has come to light that the God of Shinobi had a brother. Considering that here, Kaguya sees Hagoromo merely as a mantle of her legacy, one can be certain that she would've "woven" a second feathered robe as backup should the first became "stained". Thus, Uimaru, from "ui"—the alternate pronunciation of the kanji for "hagoromo" [羽衣]—and "maru" [丸], the boy name suffix meaning "perfect".
> 
> And yes, it is true that in a certain depiction, his name was Hamura—presumably alluding to the city in Tokyo—but in a context where a little brother was woven to be the superlative of his elder, it is more fitting that their names be nigh-identical. So "Uimaru" he will stay in this depiction. Of course, there may be an opportunity for this name to come up again...
> 
> § **The Five Fantastic Items:** In a certain context, the Celestial Maiden's Feathered Robe had his five Treasured Tools. Is it not fitting, then, that the Celestial Maiden herself have items based on objects actually pertaining to her namesake, as aforementioned above?
> 
> Kaguya's voice actor: Terri Brosius ([SHODAN](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ucwfzlqvExw) from the System Shock games [robotics not included!])
> 
> Kaguya, Hagoromo, and [Second Son] Ōtsutsuki, the Shinju/God Tree © Masashi Kishimoto  
> Harafu, Mount Hōrai = God Tree's place of origin, Kaguya's Five Fantastic Items, Uimaru (name) © me


	2. Thread of the Feathered Robe

Song: “[Edward Scissorhands Suite](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7N7FVSet6Jc)” — Danny Elfman

-:-

Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki was the child of monsters. That was the indisputable truth, and the hardest to live with in adulthood. But as a child, he was the progeny of divinities, and that was the coolest thing in the world. His father, Harafu, was the spirit of Mount Hōrai’s God Tree, a white eldritch abomination with ten heads, ten tails, and a tenfold voice like honey, holding fast to your soul long after pouring over you and sluicing its downward path.

His mother was Princess Kaguya, a scion of the Ōtsutsuki clan who had eaten the fruit of the God Tree to gain its divine power and bring peace to a warring world. Of course, as a child, Hagoromo didn’t understand what things like making lightning strike out of the blue had to do with maintaining peace, but his mother would simply place her hand on his head, answering that the mortals were a hard learner requiring a hard master. “But there will always be those who don’t appreciate what I do for this world,” she would add, her eyes taking on a light that unsettled her little raiment even more than his father calling his mother his little moon bunny.

For most of his childhood, Hagoromo saw truth in this assessment. For every praise of the Rabbit Goddess, there was a cursing of the Demon, the Ogre. And she wasn’t the only one subject to such dysphemisms. Onigo*, the people of Hōrai would spit at him as proverbially as they did literally. Child of the Demon. Child of the Ogre. During those times, Hagoromo would wish that he had never inherited his begetters’ whiteness† or his mother’s corneous projections; would wish that mortals weren’t so petty as to hate him for who his parents were. He didn’t ask to be born! He didn’t ask to bear his parents’ features! It just wasn’t fair!

Then, there was _that_ incident. 

A few of the more daring children and their parents had cornered him, knives and other implements drawn. His back flat against the wall, he lifted his arms to protect himself, the futility against sharp objects forgotten in the rush of self-preservation. Then, blackout. When he opened his eyes again, his tormentors lay strewn about, broken and bloodied, dead eyes staring blankly at the sky above. Hagoromo fell to his knees beside one of the children, blood pooling around his fingers. No, no! what had he done?! He’d shed the blood of others! Mother would be disappointed! Mother would be furious! Mother…!

“Mother!” 

As if out of nowhere, there she was, accompanied by his father. But on her face wasn’t the stony frown she wore when looking down upon the mortals; it was something else entirely, a smile that would have been reassuring were it not for that unsettling light in her eyes. What was more, she couldn’t have been more pleased. This had proven Hagoromo a credit to hers and Harafu’s divine threads. Yes, he was indeed a tapestry of that holy union of warp and weft, a fulfillment of his namesake and a wonderful accessory and remnant of her legacy. 

Hagoromo couldn’t believe it. His mother had praised him for the very behavior she decried in the mortals. And what did she mean by him being a remnant of her legacy? So intensely did the boy’s wheels spin over these questions that he barely noticed or cared when his Beastly sire placed him on his back or when he flew him back to Ōtsutsuki Castle. His trance had only broken hours later, when his mother set a plate of her special mochi in front of him. His mood lightened somewhat, Hagoromo began eating the delectable pastries. His mother’s mochi was a treat made only around the full moon, but it was well worth the monthly wait, for not only did it taste great with its raspberry- and mugwort-flavored filling, but it always seemed to better him in body and mind. Hagoromo certainly needed that now.

“Feeling better?” that decuple voice inquired once the Ōtsutsuki boy finished the last pastry. “A little, I guess,” made the boy’s wan answer. In truth, not even his mother’s special treat could do much to ease him after today’s events. Still, they had proven the highlight of this day. “Well, I’m glad my little moon bunny’s efforts weren’t completely in vain,” the Great White Beast intoned, causing Hagoromo to shudder. Again with the “little moon bunny”… 

“Tell me, my little mooncalf: have you never pondered the significance of your mother’s mochi?” Harafu’s son shook his head. “You haven’t?” Denary tsk-ing followed. “My dear boy! T’is the keystone of the arch that is your life, the answer to questions that I know have eaten at you for as long as you can remember.” The Ōtsutsuki scion looked askance towards the voice(s), his face now a confused moue. This was something Hagoromo had always disliked about his father: his cryptic utterances. What the hell did arches and keystones have to do with his mother and her mochi?

“Take, for instance, why there are those who call your mother Demon, and you the Child of the Demon,” the Kodama continued, apparently ignoring his progeny’s distaste. “T’is because of her power, yes…but do you remember the monthly ritual that happens around the time the mochi is served?” Hagoromo nodded. Every month, on the day of the plenilune, Kaguya would descend from the castle to the populace below and elect someone to climb to Mount Hōrai’s peak. They experience an ascension, she explained to him. That’s why no one ever sees them again.

“Those sojourns aren’t ‘ascensions’, not in the traditional sense…but sacrifices.” This caught Hagoromo’s attention. “Sacrifices?” Why did he feel as if he wouldn’t like where this was going…?

“Yes, my boy. They give their lives to her divinity…and their bones to her mochi.” Hagoromo’s insides froze. They gave _what_ to the mochi?! From outside, Harafu turned his tenfold gaze inside, saw the look on his son’s face. Smiled. “I suppose some ingenious mortals figured it out, why no one ever returns from Mount Hōrai’s peak. I suppose mortals _can_ be as interesting as they are delectable.” Decuple pairs of lips pulled back, revealing rows of glinting ivories. “And in accrediting yourself as the moon bunny’s little raiment, you’ve proven that those mortals you slew tonight were no exception.” The Kodama’s ivories continued to glint tenfold in plenilunary light, even as the sounds of his little mooncalf's retching and sobbing drifted from the castle and into the night. 

Later, on a night thankfully rendered moonless by stormy clouds of gray, Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki ran away. To where? He knew not nor cared, as long as he was away, far away, from his sire and especially his dam. 

-:-

In the years following his departure, Hagoromo lived the life of a hermit, surviving on whatever he could. Animals, vegetation, food scraps. Anything, as long as it wasn’t mochi. Whenever he could find a suitable tree, he would meditate under it the way Kaguya and her ancestors supposedly did under the God Tree before Harafu’s awakening. Loathe as he was to admit it, not everything associated with his progenitors was tainted, for this form of meditation did give him some semblance of peace, especially when he realized that chakra didn’t have to be destructive; it could be creative as well, growing trees and flowers, forming lakes and spires of earth. There was even a nostalgic moment when he incorporated the nine mudras and mantras the Kodama had taught him under Mount Hōrai's jeweled branches. Of course, even that reminiscence wouldn’t stop him from creating a new set of mudras, a duodenary zodiacal set that would later prove popular in succeeding generations. 

During that time, he expected Kaguya or Harafu to search for him, to spirit him back to Mount Hōrai. But neither of them came. And as hard as Hagoromo tried, he couldn’t deny the hurt that overwhelmed him. As much as he wanted to be away from them and their lunacy, a small part of him had hoped that he had had some significance to them, especially after “accrediting” himself. Clearly, he didn’t.

That wasn’t to say he would spend the rest of his life in inconsequentiality. During his meditation and hunts for food, he would find himself shadowed by birds as black as the moonless sky, a stark contrast to the white motif of his life. At first, the bêtes noires perturbed the former Ōtsutsuki with their presence, but the whimsy of the ebony birds would eventually beguile his sad fancy into smiling—laughing, even! The way they tickled him with the flutters of their wings; let him chase them through the countryside and staying just out of his reach; even just perching on his head and shoulders, with an occasional peck or two. It especially brought respite and nepenthe to Hagoromo’s soul when they puffed out their plumage, the feathers on their heads forming familiar corneous shapes. Watching this, the Ōtsutsuki scion felt a little better about his own hornlike projections, thought of them less and less as harbingers of stigma. In honor of that, he would occasionally mold his chakra to give himself a form with the best of both human and avian, a form that fascinated and delighted his fine feathered friends.

But life couldn’t be all fun and games. In observing the world around him, he saw that neither he nor his progenitors had a monopoly on what they called “chakra”. Not only had the God Tree remained after its beast awoke and took a corporeal form; its essence had pollenated, dispersed, spread across the land like a pandemic…and the people were suffering from its infection. Powers they couldn’t control, the resulting backlashes…someone had to put a stop to it, someone who could control it. 

Someone…like him. Who better? His begetters had unleashed this plague; was it not fitting that their progeny remedy it?

Thus, for the rest of his adulthood, Hagoromo would train anyone willing to disregard his supernatural appearance in the art of channeling that beautiful, destructive force into more life-giving pursuits, like bringing people of different walks of life together. Humans, demons, priests, beggars, nuns, merchants, even those who had to sell their bodies to survive. He had a modest following. 

Nonetheless, despite the good he was doing for the mortals, he refused to stay among a population for long; the memory of that childhood incident still haunted him, was something that not even his feathered friends’ corvine whimsy could beguile into smiling. He also refused to have intimate relations with any of his pupils, for who knew what Kaguya would subject her prodigal grandchildren to? 

What was more, his pupils began calling him the God of Shinobi, even leaving tributes for him. Clearly, his appearance still inspired fear, epithets or no. And in light of his childhood under the Rabbit Goddess, he wanted nothing to do with divinity. So on the Shinobi God traveled, his corvids following, to more sparsely-populated areas where he could enjoy nature a little more, see more of the world away from Ōtsutsuki Castle. 

As with all things halcyon, those days would not last. 

-:-

Despite his meditations, a din rang in the mind of Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki as he sat on the shore, reeling from the earlier reunion of mother and child. 

Heralded by a thunderous crash of lightning, Kaguya Ōtsutsuki had finally come upon her lost raiment…but she had no intent of bringing him back into her fold, for he was now unfit. She had hoped that in venturing into the outside world, he would see the mortals for what they really were: more of the same world-eating moths who had blasphemed herself and him so. She had hoped that he would see this and live up to his namesake, snuffing out those moths and their evil ways. 

But no. He had instead deviated from her designs, had shown them mercy, and had wasted his God-given gift on them!

“How can you tarnish yourself by walking among these moths? How can you tatter your divine gifts sharing them with beasts such as these? Forget you how below us they are in _everything_?! They’re nothing but brutes that stain the world with each other’s blood and breed like the vermin that they are!”

“Well, then, why don’t you teach _them_ how to better themselves instead of lording it over them?!” 

And Hagoromo didn’t stop there. He called the Rabbit Goddess of Mount Hōrai out on all her hypocrisy, on how she committed the very acts she condemned the mortals for, on how she used her “God-given power” to spread fear and perpetuate the vicious cycle that made “those moths” stain the cloth of the world to begin with.

When the God of Shinobi finished, lungs aching from his tirade, he found Kaguya uncharacteristically dumbstruck, her face frozen in an expression that was truly Demonic. With an equally Demonic scream, she vanished, gone as quickly as she came. 

Hagoromo knew he should’ve felt satisfied, now that he’d said what he’d wanted to say in all those years away from that lunatic dam. But as day bled into night, the incarnadine color seeming to linger around the plenilune that evening, all he could think of was a favorite childhood memory of his involving the woman he once called Mother, a remembrance of when she would place him on her shoulders, a perfect fit… At this boyhood anamnesis, another sad fancy that couldn’t be beguiled into smiling began to shadow him.

But the sad fancy would never take to keeping him on Night’s Plutonian shore, for the earthly shore beneath him trembled with seismicity. Thinking fast, Hagoromo jammed the butt of his staff into the ground, holding just as fast as the world quaked and seemed to collapse around him. This kneeling position he held through the night, without a wink of sleep, as the tremors continued through the night, unceasing until the next day. He raised himself shakily, mind focused on making heads and tails of the recent cataclysm.

“Hello, my little mooncalf.”

The Shinobi God jolted, the ravens perched on his head and shoulders flapping frantically to maintain their footholds. Once he sighted the Heads and Tails of the interloper, Hagoromo unwittingly accredited himself again to Kaguya’s fashion with the glower distorting his features.

“Harafu!”

Nine of the Kodama’s ten Heads—for the tenth had a basket clasped in its maw—made identical bathetic moues as enneadic tsk-ing issued forth. “Now, now. Is that really any way to greet your father after all this time? Especially in not addressing me as such?” The burdened tenth Head now extended forward, placing the basket between himself and his progeny. “And most especially when I come bearing a gift from the little moon bunny?”

Despite himself, Hagoromo decided to look inside. He opened the basket and saw, with a complementary scent of mugwort and raspberries… 

…mochi. 

The white-haired sage flung the basket away from himself, scattering the rolls in all directions. At this familiar display, the Great White Beast grinned again before filling his prodigal son in on the events leading up to the mochi’s making. Back at Mount Hōrai, the people had gotten wind of chakra usage from those Hagoromo had taught abroad. Once they felt they’d mastered it, they attempted a coup of their Rabbit Goddess with their own powers. “I know I don’t have to tell you what resulted.”

Then, for good measure, Kaguya used her powers to split and disperse the great continent which Mount Hōrai peaked, hence the tremors of the night before. “The land, and its people, are in a diaspora‡. Now no one can communicate or coalesce such grand schemes ever again.” 

Moreover, Kaguya had an accomplice besides Harafu. After Hagoromo’s departure all those years ago, the little moon bunny decided that rather than spend her energy retrieving her unfitting raiment, she would weave another one. So Rabbit Goddess and Kodama God, leporine warp and arboreal weft, intertwined once again, looming Uimaru, “who, to be frank, has proven less interesting than you, my dear boy.” Unlike his prodigal brother, "the little moonling" had proven more malleable, more fitting, of the mold for which his weaver fashioned him. In that sense, he lived up to his name. The perfect feathered robe.

“But all in all, things have become…even more entertaining.” There it was again, Harafu’s refrain. Interesting, entertaining. A great cosmic performance to beguile his bored fancy into smiling, casualties be damned. Yes, such was the Great White Beast’s refrain…

…and a coda it would become, for Hagoromo, silently weeping in anguish at the life his dam had subjected his brother to, and in fury at his sire for never intervening in his own life or Uimaru’s, thrust the chakra-infused head of his staff into the Kodama's chest, much to the creature’s uncharacteristic shock.

“Boy! What is the meaning of—!”

“So Kaguya sent my students, people who could’ve brought true peace to the world, and the land into diaspora?! Then so too shall I send her Consort!” At this invocation, the Great White Beast’s body glowed before splitting and scattering to the winds. Into how many pieces? Hagoromo knew not, nor did he care. In which directions? Hagoromo knew not, nor did he care. What would be the fates of each division? Hagoromo knew not, nor did he care. What was done was done. He had other things to worry about.

Like getting his brother away from _her_.

-:-

Using his winged form, the God of Shinobi used his sensing to hone in on Kaguya’s chakra; after the diaspora Harafu had gloated about, Hagoromo knew he couldn’t retrace his steps back to Mount Hōrai and Ōtsutsuki Castle. 

In no time, he found her, her steely gaze locked on his own. As with their previous reunion, she hadn’t changed one bit, still appearing cold and regal…except for the fact that she now had what looked like a begging bowl, a branch of the God Tree, a robe, a pearl, and a cowrie on or near her person, all of which the white-haired sage knew weren’t just for decoration or status symbolism.

Hagoromo’s grip on his staff tightened. “Where is my brother?”

A smirk graced the Rabbit Goddess’s face. “Somewhere beyond your reach.”

The Shinobi God inhaled sharply. What was that supposed to mean? Did that mean she had sent him away? Had she unwoven him due to him being “unfit” as well? His knuckles whitened. “Where is Uimaru?”

“Hah. You know I loathe repeating myself.” Kaguya’s grin suddenly faded as she noticed a conspicuous absence. “Where is Harafu?”

Resigning himself to the fact that he would never get a straight answer from the woman he once called Mother, as well as the finality of this encounter, Hagoromo countered with a smirk of his own. “He too is gone, scattered to the winds as you scattered my pupils.” Her flat expression was now twisting into a snarl, one that incarnated her blasphemous epithet. There was no going back now. “Now the warp is without its weft.”

Like a death knell, a Demonic scream rang from the Demon of Mount Hōrai…and mother and son, weaver and cloth, clashed.

-:-

Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki, the man once reviled as the Child of the Demon and now revered as the God of Shinobi, was dying. Even after everything he learned, everything he taught, it was Kaguya who had gained the upper hand. Who would’ve thought that she’d fuse those five items of hers into a metal cudgel§, especially in conjunction with a red-skinned bestial transformation that lengthened her horns and canines? He let out a wet laugh. She truly was a Demon through and through, wasn’t she?

Not that Kaguya had won a true victory herself. Using the last of his strength, Hagoromo decided to end their battle…by sealing her into the Moon. Hate the moths of this world? Then leave _this world!_ A fitting destiny and destination for the Rabbit Goddess, Harafu’s Little Moon Bunny. 

His smile waned when a less poetically just thought entered his mind: the fate of Uimaru. For everything he did right, something always went wrong, it seemed; he bettered the mortals with his teachings, but he couldn’t save his own flesh and blood, the same cloth he was cut from. Heh, listen to him, thinking of his brother and himself as she had…

Before the white-haired sage could dwell on such cynical thoughts, familiar fluttering reached his ears. Of course. After sending the Ten-Heads and Ten-Tails into diaspora, he had made haste to Mount Hōrai without sparing a thought for them. And after who knew how long, they’d followed him all that way…only to see their dear friend breathe his last, despite their soft cawing and desperate tugs at his robes.

And afterwards…

Hagoromo thought back to when he first met them all those years ago, how it was their diet of animal carcasses—and human corpses—that had first disgusted him. But then he realized, who was he to judge? Had he not eaten animal meat during his runaway years? And had he also not, however unwittingly, eaten of human flesh before running away? 

Yes, it was fitting, that he nurture them in ways other than friendship. Besides, better his flesh be consumed by his true friends than torn asunder by worshippers squabbling over who would keep his “sacred” remains.

Thus were these parting words uttered by the God of Shinobi in a strained and sibilant whisper, a stark contrast to his godly bass:

“My friends…I will be leaving you soon… But I will not be leaving you with nothing…even after you have eaten of my flesh. You have…given me…companionship, the one thing…I’ve truly wanted all my life. And so…I give you these gifts in return…my name to take as your own…Hagoromo‖…and my powers to use as your own…once you have eaten your fill…of me.

“Take these gifts…and live them…as I never could.”

With a final ounce of strength, he stroked the head of the bird nearest to him, and the avian leaned into his touch. A final sad fancy into smiling.

“Farewell…and thank you…my friends…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I mean, just…wow. Who would’ve thought I’d have so much to say about pilot!Haggy…? Good night, sweet God. May flocks of corvids eat sing thee to thy rest.  
> * **Onigo:** deliberate irony here. While the people of Mount Hōrai meant this literally as Child of the Demon due to Hagoromo’s resemblance to her, onigo [鬼子] usually indicates a child who does not resemble its parents. Ergo, even if Hagoromo didn’t resemble his parents, he would still be a “demon child”. That, and onigo can also denote a child born with teeth. Make of each what you will.
> 
> † **Whiteness:** while it is true that in a certain context the God of Shinobi was redheaded—most likely for the sole purpose of cementing his ancestry to a certain seal-specialist clan—in this context, he has white hair. Not only because both his progenitors will have been white, but because it lends itself to poetic justice considering his true successors. Besides, in portrayals of the Mother of God herself, depictions of her coiffure vary as well: arranged in a herringbone-style on a [certain tablet](http://narutobase.net/manga/Naruto/646/9/)—reminiscent of a certain Mizukage’s—and in [filial flashback](http://narutobase.net/manga/Naruto/670/12/), long and sweeping to the ground, no curls or frays whatsoever. Let us rest this case.
> 
> ‡ **Diaspora:** the Rabbit Goddess would not be the first divinity to [split](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tower_of_Babel) humanity in some way. Nor would the Land of Hōrai be the first [supercontinent](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pangaea) to split into smaller continents. This latter fact could also explain why in addition to taking the forms of Oriental creatures (Raijū, Nue, Naga, Orochi, Tanuki, Nekomata, Umibōzu, Ushi-Oni, and Kitsune), the Chakra Beasts have taken Occidental forms (Chimera, Cerberus, Scylla, Charybdis, Hydra, Hippocamp), and the forms of others in-between (Monkey, Slug, Beetle).
> 
> § **Metal Cudgel:** in yet another example of her Demonism, Kaguya embodies that image of _oninikanabō_ [鬼に金棒], of arming an already powerful Demon with such a clobbering implement, thus making something strong beyond strong.
> 
> ‖ **The Surname of Hagoromo:** in addition to denoting the celestial maiden’s feathered robe, _hagoromo_ can also denote the plumage of birds. Is it not apropos, then, that a [clan](http://naruto.wikia.com/wiki/Hagoromo_Clan) of this surname actually descend into certain families of corvids? Especially considering that there is already a _hagoromogarasu_ [羽衣烏] in spirit if not in the flesh, the Red-Winged Blackbird?
> 
> Hagoromo’s voice: Ian McKellen ([Gandalf](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VlaiBeLrntQ) from the Lord of the Rings movies)
> 
> Kaguya, Hagoromo [the man and the clan name], and [Second Son] Ōtsutsuki © Masashi Kishimoto  
> Harafu, Uimaru (name), Mount Hōrai, Kaguya’s Five Items and Metal Cudgel, Hagoromo Clan = Hyūga & Uchiha, story © me


	3. Weft of the Feathered Robe

Song: “[Davy Jones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOoyAYPywSs)” — Pirates of the Caribbean II: Dead Man's Chest soundtrack

-:-

The Ten-Headed and Ten-Tailed Kodama had no memory of his existence before his awakening, but considering that he came from a tree, he imagined it to be quite garden-variety. Tedious. _Very_ tedious. He had not even a proper name until that precocious little girl with bitten Chakra Fruit in hand graced him with one. “Harafu,” she christened him, for as the spirit of the God Tree of Mount Hōrai, he was a powerful creature surpassing all.

“Harafu,” he repeated, letting the word run over his denary tongues as he marveled at his sonorous voice(s). Surpassing. Powerful. Above all. After some pondering, the Beast of the God Tree smiled tenfold. “Yes. I think that name rather pleases me…” He lowered his decuple Heads until he was eye level with she who dared eat the fruit of his tree. “And _your_ name, little one?”

“Kaguya. Kaguya Ōtsutsuki,” she answered, her confidence a stark contrast to those staring in shock and awe on the other side of the _shimenawa_.

“Kaguya Ōtsutsuki…” Like the name given him, this little girl’s evoked imagery of its own: a radiant night shimmering with celestial bodies, and a great bamboo tree bearing witness to such eventide. A splendid name indeed. And for it to be bestowed upon she who awoke him… 

_This little girl is…very interesting…_

-:-

Ever since that fateful day, not one firmamental revolution passed that little Kaguya was not in his company. She would be up before everyone in her familial Castle and would sit with the Kodama for hours on end. Many and sundry were the things they discussed under those jeweled branches of Mount Hōrai—the sky, the weather, everything on the Land of Hōrai. They would even play together, or rather, Kaguya would make a playground of him—scurrying in-between his tail barbs and his flank horns, climbing between a nexus of his heads or a pair of antlers. There would even be vespers when the little girl of radiant night would nestle herself between the Kodama’s leonine forelegs, not even bothering to return to the castle to sleep.

Yes, the little Ōtsutsuki poppet had taken a shine to him, and Harafu realized with great intrigue that he had taken a shine to her as well. He had even come up with a most befitting term of endearment for her: his “little moon bunny”, for not only was her favorite kimono decorated with representations of the leporine creatures, but she was as white as the plenilune and had cephalic projections similar to the ears of the lagomorphs.

Another, and more significant, gesture of this fondness was teaching her everything there was to know about chakra, the power she gained after eating the fruit of his Tree. Nine mudras and their mantras—Rin, Hyō, Tō, Sha, Kai, Jin, Retsu, Zai, Zen; five elements—Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Lightning; all coming together in that beautiful art of bending the world to your will. Harafu’s little moon bunny took to it right away, performing some very interesting feats. Rains of flowers and fire; water into blood and wine and acid; blocking out celestial light with impenetrable darkness.

Harafu wasn’t the only one enthralled by Kaguya’s new abilities. Tarine* Ōtsutsuki, the head of the clan and Kaguya’s father, couldn’t have been happier. True, he’d been distressed at first when his daughter ate the forbidden fruit of the tree, fearing that the essence of what maintained the Ōtsutsuki’s superiority over those lowly mortals would be lost forever. But instead, that essence had coalesced, made his daughter a living goddess, and cemented the Ōtsutsuki Clan’s dominion for all time. All that was left was to reinforce this divinity throughout Hōrai. 

Thus it came to pass that, for the first time in both their lives, Harafu and Kaguya left Ōtsutsuki Castle, the God Tree, and Mount Hōrai behind. Led by Tarine, the Ōtsutsuki descended down the great mount, past the lesser peaks of Fuji, Atsuta, and Kumano†, and onto the land eponymous with the superlative of these three. In a most amusing and lofty scene, Kaguya’s palanquin, an elaborate thing decorated with stylized mugwort and goosefoot‡, lay perched on the frontal pair of the Kodama’s horns. A precarious position indeed, but Kaguya was so trusting of him. That, and she wanted the most prominent position possible. After all, were she to ride anywhere else, she’d be lost to the people, and as a goddess, she couldn’t let _that_ happen!

So on the odd procession went around the Land of Hōrai. Being that the continent was vast, the journey took quite a few solar revolutions. During that time, Harafu’s little moon bunny gained an interesting epithet: the Rabbit Goddess. Harafu himself had gained quite a few interesting appellations as well: the Hakutaku. The Manticore. The Daidarabotchi, Giant. His personal favorite, the Great White Beast. There was even an oddball epithet: the Enju no Jashin, Evil God of the Pagoda Tree§.

He also saw some interesting changes come over his little moon bunny, changes most noticeable when she paid him her nightly visits. No longer was her gait that of an eager child running to greet its playmate; now it was the gait of something else entirely, something divine… What was more, most especially on nights of the full moon, he noticed other little things. Like the soft subtle glow of her skin, the moonlight caught on her horns, the way her hair fell about her frame and carried in the nightly breeze. This, and the coy gleam in her eyes of jade‖, awoke something within Harafu, something that not even he, the Echo of the God Tree, could articulate…

Whatever this stirring within him was, it certainly explained the annoyance he felt upon his and the Ōtsutsuki’s return to Mount Hōrai. During their odyssey across the Land of Mugwort and Goosefoot, five men, all of relatively high standing for mere mortals, expressed interest in consortion with the Rabbit Goddess. Tarine couldn’t believe it; who were these men that they thought themselves worthy of his divine daughter! And Harafu…Harafu wanted those men to vanish forever.

So it was quite surprising—and in retrospect, even more interesting—when Kaguya herself granted those men an audience with her. Never would Harafu forget the conversation he and his little moon bunny had on the eve of that meeting. 

“Come to pay me one last visit before the start of consorted life? How thoughtful of you.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Who can say? If anything, I pity you; a divine being such as yourself with a mundane mortal for a bedmate. Sounds quite a bore.”

“You honestly think I plan to feed the silk of my body to moths such as they? Hah! I thought you knew me better than that. Besides…I already have a consort in mind.”

“Oh? And who might that be, my little moon bunny?”

“Who do _you_ think?” 

With a familiar coy gleam in her eye, Kaguya turned back to the castle, the effect made more graceful by the billow of her gown. Whatever pique the Great White Beast felt before was now giving way to that familiar intrigue.

-:-

The stone begging bowl of the Buddha. A robe of the fire rat. A dragon’s pearl. A swallow’s cowrie. A branch of the God Tree; whoever was the first to bring any of these items would become the Rabbit Goddess’s consort. “That is all you have to do,” she told them. “Nothing more, nothing less. But understand this: you either come back with the item I have assigned you…or you not come back at all.” 

Harafu, who had been listening from outside, couldn’t help the tenfold glint of his toothy grin(s). What fools’ errands she was sending them on! That last one especially…

“How very cheeky of you,” made his assessment that same night. Already, one man had lost the right to share in Kaguya’s divinity; the man assigned to bring a branch from the God Tree had fled at the mere sight of its Beast, his scream following him as he descended the mountain.

As time passed, the other men proved no more fortunate. The one assigned to retrieve the Buddha’s begging bowl had attempted to deceive Kaguya with a common begging bowl. The Rabbit Goddess, of course, saw through this deception and slew the man on the spot. 

The man assigned the dragon’s pearl tried to deceive Kaguya as well. The pearl he brought was genuine, yes…but it was a _hoshi no tama_ , an embodiment of a _kitsune_ ’s soul, rather than a draconic neck bauble. He too met the same fate as he assigned the Buddha’s begging bowl.

As for the man assigned the swallow’s cowrie, Kaguya received word from the man’s servants that the poor fellow had been savaged by the demon swallows he attempted to raid. The man assigned the fire rat robe met a similar fate: incinerated by fiery rodents.

“Tragic,” made the Kodama’s assessment.

“Yes. Real tragic,” the little moon bunny seconded, a smirk gracing her delicate features as she leaned against the Beast’s leonine foreleg.

Of course, this wasn’t to say that Kaguya would never get these fantastic items. Harafu took it upon himself to do what no man could for his little moon bunny and make the impossible possible. He first flew to the dwelling places of the dragons, the fire rats, and the demon swallows for their respective items. It certainly was interesting and most amusing how he didn’t even have to raise a paw or a tail to get what he desired; so cowed were the poor creatures at the very sight of the Great White Beast that they practically tripped over themselves to bring him what he asked. Seek, and Harafu did find.

As for the remaining items, Harafu needed look no further than Mount Hōrai. Snapping a branch off his Tree was a simple task. As for the begging bowl, all that was needed was to dig under the Tree, and behold: a splendid specimen bejeweled as splendidly as the God Tree. Perhaps there really was something to that rumor that the Buddha himself had chosen this tree as his final resting place… Rumors or not, it was certainly worth it for the open-mouthed intrigue on Kaguya’s face when the Beast of the God Tree presented her with the fantastic items.

But not all were happy with this development. Tarine Ōtsutsuki, while satisfied that his daughter wouldn’t have to consort some lowly mortal, was no less disgusted by the notion of her sharing her body with that… _thing_. Only another Ōtsutsuki was worthy of mating with an Ōtsutsuki—Kaguya’s mother, Izayoi¶, had been no exception. 

What was more, she had started looking upon her own flesh and blood like they were no better than the lowly creatures below. Tarine would not have this. Kaguya’s divinity was meant to benefit the Ōtsutsuki as a whole, not just herself. 

After quickly arranging a betrothal between his daughter and a cousin of hers, Toneri, Tarine decided he would impress everything upon she who took the life of his beloved. But just as she did the suitors who tried to deceive her, Kaguya unblinkingly took the life of her sire, as well as that of her betrothed and the rest of the Ōtsutsuki. 

“A lesson in provoking divine wrath, I presume?” Yes, Harafu was that unshaken by his Rabbit Goddess slaying her kith and kin, gathering the corpses in a feast for him, even grinding the remaining bones for some mochi, in which he also partook. Such was how little he felt for those mortals. It was his little moon bunny who held his attention, not they. 

-:-

Death wasn’t the only thing Kaguya and Harafu wrought. 

On a plenilunary night like any other, the Rabbit Goddess expressed her desire to create an extension of herself. As certain events had proven, the clan of her mortal birth had no right to declare itself superior to the moths of the world. They couldn’t even put up a fight against her—how pathetic. Not even worth measuring her capacity.

Thus, it was up to her to weave something truly worthy of the Ōtsutsuki name. And she could think of no better weft to her warp than Harafu. As for Harafu himself, he was just intrigued at the prospect of siring offspring, of creating something that reflected himself and his little moon bunny. 

But how to go about it, that was the question. The greatest logistical dilemma was his gargantuan size—how was he to become one with her without smothering her? After some thinking, he came up with the idea of taking a human form. But Kaguya wouldn’t hear of it. “I want you just as you are,” she said. So instead, Harafu simply minimized himself until he was just a head or two higher than his little moon bunny. In turn, the last remaining Ōtsutsuki disrobed herself, one layer at a time, until her _jūnihitoe_ lay at her feet like the peeling of some celestial fruit. As with everything concerning the Princess of Radiant Night, the Great White Beast was just as pleased with the sight as she was with him. The two divinities embraced, and forms, logistics, even Hōrai itself were forgotten as Rabbit and Kodama joined and became one, their sounds of mutual ecstasy drifting into the night. 

Thus did the moon of plenty bear witness to the union of the Beast of the God Tree and the Rabbit Goddess who had awoken him. That same moon would later bear witness to the halting of its child’s cycle, the waxing of her belly, and her groans as she leaned against the God Tree’s bole, laboring to bring its Beast’s and her creation into being. 

A final groan, and then…a mewling cry.

Harafu, who had been nuzzling his little moon bunny’s back during her pains, peered at the fleshy bundle that had tumbled to the earth beneath her…and found himself intrigued once again. Once he licked the bloody substance off the little one’s skin, he saw that the babe had a patch of whiteness already present on his cranium, accompanied by a pair of corneous nubs. Even in birth, this little one was a credit to his makers. Fascinating, indeed.

This resemblance was not lost on Kaguya either, as evidenced when she gave him the perfect name befitting his reason for being: Hagoromo, for like the feathered robe, he would make a wonderful accessory to her divinity.

But as with the best-laid schemes of mice and men, the best-laid scheme of the Rabbit Goddess would go awry. 

-:-

As little Hagoromo grew, Harafu found himself reliving Kaguya’s childhood. The visits, the playtime, the training. He had even bestowed a similar hypocorism upon his offspring: his little mooncalf. That appellation would prove apt, for not only was Hagoromo a “calf” of the moon bunny, but whenever he wasn’t learning from or playing with his sire, the boy would just sit there, in a world of his own. 

Not that it wasn’t obvious what spun the boy’s wheels: the next fulfillment of his epithet. The mortals of the Land of Hōrai considered Hagoromo a freak, a deformed monstrosity, a selfish, misbegotten, and unnatural child of the highest order like the Goddess they secretly blasphemed as the Demon. How often had his little mooncalf ascended the Mount in tears? And yet, the boy would descend just as often. Did Hagoromo really find the Mugwort and Goosefoot so compelling that he was willing to face persecution?

If so, that just made him even more interesting, especially with the way Kaguya constantly denounced the mortals within it. He asked his little moon bunny about it, why she let her little raiment venture into such a veritable gauntlet. “That will reinforce his purpose in life,” made her answer. “Once he sees firsthand how those lowly moths eat away at the silk of this world, he will see fit in my fashion for him and adorn himself to me.” An interesting—and apropos—choice of words as always, thought Harafu. In light of this, he and the moon bunny continued letting their creation descend down the Mount, waiting for a sign—anything—that accredited himself to his weaver.

One day, that proof manifested.

As she and Harafu lay together under the God Tree, Kaguya suddenly perked up, a Demonic smirk gracing her features. “Let us descend, Harafu.” The Kodama complied—"Ready when you are, my little moon bunny"—and flew alongside the Rabbit Goddess to the location: a back alley where the little mooncalf kneeled amidst an assortment of bloodied and broken corpses.

“Mother!”

It was obvious that Hagoromo feared the moon bunny’s judgment—had she not decried the bloodshed constant among mortals? But the boy needn’t have worried; the little moon bunny couldn’t have been more pleased with her little raiment. It was clear, however, that even the Rabbit Goddess’s praise did nothing to assuage the boy. If anything, it only confused him more, judging from that spinning wheel look…

So deep was the little mooncalf in his thoughts that he didn’t even flinch when Harafu placed him on his back and flew him back to Ōtsutsuki Castle. As Hagoromo withdrew into his room, Kaguya rejoined her Beastly lover, spiriting the slain corpses with her. Hours later, when flesh had been eaten and bones had been ground, Harafu peered into the boy’s bedchamber and watched him eat the moon bunny’s specialty. Perhaps now was as good a time as ever to tell him what exactly he had accredited himself to.

“Tell me something, my little mooncalf: have you never pondered the significance of your mother’s mochi?”

-:-

This was certainly unexpected. Not only had the Feathered Robe drifted away, but the little moon bunny sought not to bring him back. “If he wants to leave his maker, let him.” If he survived, maybe he’d see for himself what lowly moths the mortals were, and then she’d reclaim him. If he didn’t, well…that was what happened when a feathered robe was unfitting of its celestial maiden.

Besides, why waste all that energy searching for a lost raiment when she could easily weave another one? Thus did the Beast of Mount Hōrai’s God Tree and the Rabbit Goddess of Mount Hōrai intertwine once again, weaving a creation that Kaguya named Uimaru, for he would be a superlative of his unfit prototype. 

And a superlative he was, for unlike Hagoromo, Uimaru proved to be a much better fit for she who had woven him. Never did he question the little moon bunny’s actions or her assessment of the mortals; truth be told, he hardly spoke at all, to the point where Harafu wondered if the boy was a mute! The little moonling wasn’t much for playing, either, choosing to lay or sit listlessly like a garment without its wearer.

Tedious. _Very_ tedious.

In time, however, things became interesting again. The little mooncalf had survived all these years abroad, despite the separation from his maker and wearer. Not only that, but instead of smothering the moths of the world, he had adorned them by teaching them what he’d taught him and the moon bunny all those years ago. Fascinating, especially considering how they had treated him all those years ago…

The Rabbit Goddess of Mount Hōrai couldn’t have been more livid. How dare her raiment form a will separate from hers! and while tattering himself among those moths, no less! So livid was she that she spirited herself to wherever the little mooncalf was to give him a piece of her mind. When she returned, it was obvious that her unfitting raiment had returned the favor, if her grumbling and pacing were anything to go by.

Yes, this was the most intriguing development in quite some time. 

And there was more intrigue to come. The knowledge the moths gained from the Feathered Robe had become dust in the wind, a dust that had settled upon the people closest to Mount Hōrai and drove them to commit the ultimate impiety: the deicide of their Goddess. Up they ascended, past the peaks of Fuji, Atsuta, and Kumano, and into the Demon’s lair, implements drawn and flesh glowing with that beautiful, destructive force. 

In the end, it would all come to naught, a bloody spectacle for the equally sanguine plenilune. The little moon bunny and the little moonling—with some help from the God Beast—decimated the impious throng, sending the survivors running for the mugwort and goosefoot. But that refuge too would come to naught, for Kaguya, having fashioned those Five Fantastic Items into a cudgel, jammed it into the earth at Mount Hōrai’s base. A prodigious crack! and Hōrai’s Land shook in cataclysm, rending continental pieces hither, thither, and yon.

As he devoured the flesh of the impious dead, leaving yet more bones for the moon bunny’s mochi, Harafu idly wondered what his little mooncalf was making of all this…

He wouldn’t have to wonder long. The next day, Kaguya approached him with a basket full of familiar rice cakes. “Take these to Hagoromo, and do tell him what transpired to make these,” she told him, her face twisted in a Demonic leer. “Let this be a lesson to him in what happens when a feathered robe attempts a life of its own, separate from its celestial wearer.” Basket in maw, Harafu obliged, ready to sate his idle wonderings.

In no time, the Beast of the God Tree found his prodigal son and found himself pausing to take in the man Hagoromo grew up to be. No longer was he a little moppet with soft features; now he was a sagely being, a divinity in his own right. No wonder the little moon bunny was so agitated…

“Hello, my little mooncalf.”

“Harafu!”

How amusingly impudent—to not even address him as “Father”! Ninefold tsking issued from the Kodama’s unburdened Heads. “Now, now. Is that really any way to greet your father after all this time? Especially in not addressing me as such?” He extended his tenth Head forward, presented Hagoromo with the moon bunny’s little gift…and grinned at the spectacle of his progeny flinging mochi away from himself.

At that familiar display, he was only too happy to divulge to his little mooncalf everything that had happened in his absence, from the birth and life of the little moonling to last night’s cataclysmic phenomenon. So caught up was the Beast of the God Tree in his regaling of that entertaining spectacle that his twentyfold eyes were closed to his little mooncalf. That euphoria would soon evaporate when he felt something thrust into his chest. Twenty ruby orbs snapped open in uncharacteristic shock, taking in an enraged Hagoromo jamming his staff into his chest.

“Boy! What is the meaning of—!”

But the mooncalf was deaf to him. “So Kaguya sent my students, people who could’ve brought true peace to the world, and the land into diaspora?! Then so too shall I send her Consort!”

Diaspora?! _Him?!_ A pained tenfold roar ripped from decuple throats as the searing hot pain from Hagoromo’s staff spread throughout his Beastly frame, splitting him as Kaguya had split the earth—

-:-

_In the dying echoes of a roar from the Divine Beast, eighteen pieces—nine Headed, nine Tailed—scattered throughout a scattered world, seeds sown hither, thither, and yon from the God Tree on a raging wind…_

_Wherever shall these seeds take root? Whatever shall these seeds grow into? Whoever shall reap these seeds? Only time will tell…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What say you on _this_ origin of the God of Shinobi and the Chakra Beasts, my dears?
> 
> * **Tarine:** Just as Kaguya shares a forename and surname with the sixth [consort](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emperor_Suinin#Consorts_and_children) of a legendary Emperor, it would stand to reason that her father would share such as well. Consider also the makeup of his name [垂根]. Literally translated, it could mean “Root of the Hornbeam”, lending itself nicely to the arboreal imagery of his daughter’s life. What’s more, the former kanji on its own can also refer to the zigzag paper streamers used to adorn Shinto objects such as _shimenawa_. Yet more food for thought…
> 
> † **Fuji, Atsuta, and Kumano:** In the Japanese language, these three mountains are known as the “Sanhōrai”, literally the Three Mount Hōrai.
> 
> ‡ **Mugwort and Goosefoot:** The literal translation of the kanji for Hōrai [蓬莱].
> 
> § **Enju no Jashin:** In what is now Yamanashi Prefecture, there was a legend of this [Evil God of the Pagoda Tree](http://hyakumonogatari.com/2012/01/18/enju-no-jashin-the-evil-god-in-the-pagoda-tree/), an evil spirit worshiped as a god much like our Harafu.
> 
> ‖ **Eyes of Jade:** It is true that in a certain depiction, the eyes of the Rabbit Goddess are white and a predecessor to the White Eyes of the Hyūga. But in a depiction where her Moon Rabbit imagery is harnessed to its fullest, it is befitting that her eyes be the color of the mineral the lunar leporine is prefixed by.
> 
> ¶ **Izayoi:** Written as 十六夜, it means “Sixteenth Night”, a day when the Moon is supposedly at its largest in the night sky. Quite apropos for the mother of the Moon Bunny…
> 
> Harafu’s voice: Anthony Hopkins ([Hannibal Lecter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99Ptctl5_qQ))
> 
> Kaguya, Hagoromo, and [Second Son] Ōtsutsuki, the Shinju/God Tree © Masashi Kishimoto  
> Tarine and Izayoi Ōtsutsuki, Uimaru (name), Harafu, story © me


End file.
